


baby, good luck to you

by soulofme



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Break Up, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, POV Eren Yeager, Past Relationship(s), hella short, it's 2 am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7394590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofme/pseuds/soulofme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My eyes naturally fall back to him, like I’ve done so many times before, and I wonder if I’m trying to imprint his face into my mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby, good luck to you

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Good Luck by BEAST.
> 
> Why do I ship this jfc

My sister chews idly on the lollipop stick in her mouth. The candy’s long gone and I can imagine that any semblance of flavor is as well, but she seems unaffected by it. I wrinkle my nose and push the bag on my lap down so it sits on the floor of the car.

Mikasa turns to me at the sound, expression impassive. Her dark eyes run over the length of my body before she makes a small, almost imperceptible sound.

“What?” I ask gruffly, feeling self-conscious. She shrugs.

“Aren’t you going to go?” she asks, voice callous, and I scowl at the sound of it.

“Mikasa-” I cut myself off when her expression turns dangerous and sit up straighter in my seat.

My bones feel stiff as I force them into moving. The car door creaks as I push it open. I plant my feet firmly on the ground and brush off my pants. Mikasa pulls the lollipop stick from her mouth and tucks it back into the wrapper. She folds it up and tosses it out of the window.

I slam the door shut.

Each step feels heavy. My body feels like it’s swaying, and I wonder what will happen if I just let myself fall. The early June air is sweet. It’s not overbearing, but it’s warm enough that it’s damn near impossible to ignore the fact that it’s summer.

He’s sitting on the stoop, a bottle of Coke next to him. His hair is mussed, an unusual look for him, and I wonder how it got to be that way. The bags under his eyes seem more pronounced, the hollows in his cheeks deeper than I remember.

He looks at me for all of about five seconds before his eyes drift back to whatever he had been looking at before. I twist my fingers in the hem of my sweatshirt and swallow thickly, coming to a stop in front of him.

“Sit,” he says.

The sound of his voice grates on my already frayed nerves. I find myself nodding like a complacent child and sit down next to him. He lifts the bottle of Coke up and holds it out to me. I shake my head and he shrugs, taking a slow sip.

“Hi,” I say, because there’s nothing else I can think of saying.

He sets the bottle down and rests his arms over his knees. His skin is a rich golden brown, tanned by hours working in the sun. His hands are rough, covered in little cuts, and I resist the urge to run my fingers over them. He looks rugged, harsh, even, and I try to remember if he ever looked like that before.

“So,” he drawls out, eyes narrowing a fraction. “Why are you here?”

“It’s only for a little while,” I say, and I regret it when he snorts loudly. “I don’t have much time.”

“Why are you wasting your time here, then?” he asks, almost sounding genuinely curious. I swallow harshly. Tears prick at the back of my eyelids and I blink until the sensation fades.

“I wanted…” My voice falters when he finally looks at me. His eyes, usually warm and soft, are now piercing. They're capable of demanding my complete attention and I’m helpless to them.

“Ah,” he says, eyes alight with understanding, and I find my eyebrows furrowing. “You’re leaving.”

His eyes are on Mikasa’s truck, still running at the end of the driveway. I stare at the piled boxes, neatly arranged so that all of my belongings could fit.

“Yes,” I say, because there’s no use in chalking up my visit as anything other than a farewell of sorts.

“Huh,” he sounds thoughtful as he leans back on his hands, regarding the truck with a cool expression. “Guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

I wince at his words and stare at my hands. I twist my fingers together and take a deep breath.

“Look,” I say, and for the first time I realize how tired I sound. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Okay,” he says simply.

“That’s it?” I ask, frustrated. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“Yes,” he says. “What did you expect me to say?”

“I don’t know,” I say, my voice sounding horrifically vulnerable. “I-I didn’t expect much.”

“Good,” he says.

We sit in silence. I see Mikasa shifting in her seat. She’s getting impatient, and I realize that I’ll have to wrap this up. But there’s something familiar about this set-up, about just sitting here next to him. Of course, that was before he held such a great amount of animosity towards me.

“I’m sorry,” I say. I don’t elaborate because there’s nothing else for me to say.

“Okay,” he says again.

“So…”

“This is it.”

“I know,” I say, my voice small, and he looks at me again. I look at my feet so I don’t have to see his expression again. “This…we’re done, right?”

“Of course,” he murmurs. “We never started in the first place.”

“Right,” I say, and try not to wince at his words. “We never loved each other.”

“Right,” he says. “This was never anything important.”

I don’t know why we’re lying to ourselves so blatantly, but I suppose there’s a certain sense of comfort to be found in it. I make to stand up.

“Hey,” he says, making me look down at him. “He makes you happy, right?”

His eyes are on the ring around my neck.

“Of course,” I say.

His eyes soften and my body flushes with warmth. It's a familiar expression that leaves me breathless, and I wonder if he can tell how much of me still belongs to him.

“That’s good, then,” he breathes, and then he chokes on a laugh.

“What about you?” I ask. He shakes his head.

“I didn't find anyone,” he says. My jaw drops slightly at the new information.

“That’s surprising,” I mumble. It's easy for people to like him.

He shrugs.

“I’m not in a rush,” he says. “I have my whole life to find someone.”

“Right,” I say, swallowing thickly. I reach up to touch the ring. His eyes track the movement and I force myself to try to smile (it probably looks more like a grimace).

“Good luck,” he says quietly.

I nod once and turn away. I feel his eyes on me the entire walk to Mikasa’s truck. My sister says nothing as she watches me buckle in.

“Ready?” she finally asks.

“Ready,” I say.

She puts the car into gear and pulls away from the curb. My eyes naturally fall back to him, like I’ve done so many times before, and I wonder if I’m trying to imprint his face into my mind. His eyes lock onto mine.

He lifts the Coke bottle in parting before taking a sip.

I turn away from the window and fiddle with the radio controls.

“It’s okay, right?” I ask, more to myself than anything, but Mikasa answers anyway.

“Sure,” she says, and then we’re speeding down the road.


End file.
